Monday, May 9, 2011

A Few Months Later in Arizona

Only You could persuade me
That this rock-hard, scrubby, suncracked expanse
Is in truth a cool drink of water
uniquely suited to my
peculiar thirst.

Only You could perceive
That this relentless solitude, these averted eyes,
this heartbreaking hunger
Would prove to be ideal suitors
to my forsaken muse
and my neglected pen.

How else can I thank You
but to embark upon this stroll, arm-in-arm, with death?
I live to live, but today, my head rests against death's shoulder.
For only this high desert, whose thirsty afternoons
and subzero nights
and sudden lightning
and bruising hail
can sicken me with fear,
Can shelter my anonymity,
Provide a haven for my most sacred dreams,
And listen with me in reverent attention
to Your private hymns.

I adore this poem and am marking your blog a favorite. You hit themes dear to me, the muse stirred in wilderness, especially dangerous wilderness, the close walk with death, the emphasis on the sacred. Thanks for this one.

This is really beautiful...I used to live in arid country and it is very much like you describe. It is great writing you really took me away and the desert or outback can be so inspiring and spiritual.

Having a pair of comforting arms to encircle you in all your ups and downs is like having an oasis in the middle of the desert sands. If you have that companionship , you are blessed. From what you've written ,you have huge appreciation of it too. Hope you both walk arm in arm for along while and create lots of poetry as you go along.

About Me

I work as a freelance writer, specializing in law, environmental issues and gardening, and am currently Vice Chair of the ABA International Animal Law Committee. Born in
New Hampshire, I graduated from the University of New Hampshire and Vermont Law School, and have studied international criminal law at the University of New Hampshire School of Law. I have also lived in New York, Arizona and Texas, and now live with my husband in Boise, Idaho.